


The Naughty List

by FloweredHotPants



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Christmas, Come Eating, Father/Son Incest, Incest, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Roleplay, Santa Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay, Top Sheriff Stilinski, also i don't know how old stiles is here, definitely forgetting some tags, i'm sorry for all the childhood memories i've ruined, so you can make that up on your own
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 13:34:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17060747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FloweredHotPants/pseuds/FloweredHotPants
Summary: Stiles comes home to find out he's on Santa's naughty list. He's more than happy to what's necessary to get himself off.





	The Naughty List

When Stiles walks through the front door, he is greeted with the delicious scents of gingerbread, chocolate and pine. He inhales deeply and smiles. It smells like Christmas.

‘Dad?’ he calls out. It must’ve been his dad who did this. It was either that or Santa Claus was real and he and his elves had decided to set off a Christmas scented bomb in their living room.

‘Go upstairs! I left you something in your room.’

A shiver of anticipation races up Stiles’ spine, and without taking off his shoes or coat, he races up the stairs.

‘Yessss,’ Stiles whispers to himself when he sees what’s on his bed.

Neatly lined up are a butt plug, lube, and a onesie. The plug is green, with ridges to make it look like a Christmas tree. The onesie is white, patterned with little trains. It’s soft to the touch, and when Stiles turns it over he grins at the sight of the butt flap.

Stiles’ cock hardens at the images those three items bring to mind. His dad wants to play, and Stiles is more than happy to play with him.

‘Oh, yes.’

He quickly strips and jumps in the shower to clean up. Preparing himself doesn’t take long. His dad had him good and hard last night and his hole remembers. His hole is wet and open in only a couple minutes, and the plug slides in easily, it’s base sitting snug against Stiles’ rim. After that, every movement is one of delicious torture. He puts on the onesie slowly, delighting in the way the fabric feels on his heated skin and the way tents around his now fully erect cock.

The house is dark when he steps out of his room to go downstairs, and the only sounds are the soft jingle of Christmas music, the creaks of the stairs, and his own heavy breathing as the plug shifts slightly with every step and the fabric of the onesie teases at his cock with every movement. He follows the music to the living room, where he almost bursts out laughing when he sees the display his dad’s set up. The reclining chair is covered with a big red blanket, scattered around it are presents, fake snow, and even a plastic reindeer. Several strings of Christmas lights give off a yellow glow. In the chair is his dad, wearing a Santa suit, including in a fake beard and Santa hat. Even in the low, yellow light, Stiles can see the shape of his hard cock hidden by the red, shimmering fabric.

Stiles keeps in his laughter, though. It would ruin the magic, and break one of their unspoken rules of roleplay: you do not break character. And now that he has an idea of what game his dad has in mind, he wants to play it out at all cost. It’s messed up and perverted, and he loves it.

‘Santa?’ Stiles breathes out in wonder, widening his eyes and putting a sleepy childlike slur in his voice. He rubs his eyes and takes a hesitating step into the living room.

‘Hello, my son.’

‘You’re real!’

‘Of course, I am.’ Santa smiles. ‘Now come closer and tell Santa if you’ve been a good boy this year.’

Stiles shuffles closer. The butt plug shifts, his hole clenching around it, eager for what’s to come. His cock twitches. There’s a damp patch forming at the front of the onesie. He bites his lip and shakes his head, and keeps shuffling forward until his toes almost touch Santa’s boots. He can see Santa’s thick cock straining against the front of the pants of his suit more clearly now. His mouth waters, and he almost drops on his knees to beg for a taste.

‘You haven’t been a good boy? You’ve been naughty?’

Stiles nods, pouting like he’s ashamed, but he doesn’t move his gaze away from Santa’s cock.

‘Well, tell Santa what you’ve done.’

Stiles finally looks up, catching Santa’s eye. ‘I let my daddy fuck me. In my butt. And in my mouth. I let him touch me everywhere.’

‘That is very naughty indeed,’ Santa agrees. Even with the beard, Stiles can see the mischievous smile on Santa’s lips. ‘Now, why don’t you come and sit on Santa’s lap and tell me all about it. Maybe we can figure out a way to get you of that naughty list.’

Stiles nods demurely and turns around. He bends over, widening his stance a little and placing his hands on his knees. Santa makes quick work of the buttons of the butt flap. Warm hands spread Stiles’ ass cheeks, massaging them.

‘Hmm,’ Santa hums. ‘What do we have here? A little present for me?’ He fingers slowly move closer to Stiles’ hole, then he grasps the base of the plug firmly and twists it as he slowly pulls it out. ‘Santaaa,’ Stiles whines.

‘Now, now, no complaining.’ Santa playfully slaps one of Stiles’ cheeks, eliciting a high whine from him. ‘Or I’ll have to keep you on that naughty list.’

Stiles bites his lip to keep from saying anything else, and nods. Santa slowly moves the plug back in, and out, and keeps moving it in and out of Stiles in slow, torturous movements, the ridges on the plug catching on Stiles’ rim, making the skin oh so sensitive. And he loves it. He loves every second of it.

‘Hmm. Yes. I can see how naughty you’ve been,’ Santa hums, his voice low and thick with lust. Finally, after what seems like hours, the plug is pulled out and replaced by a set of fingers. More lube is added. Fingers brush against his prostate, and Stiles cries out at the pleasure that shoots through him. ‘Now, sit down.’

Stiles is guided backwards until the head of Santa’s cock presses against his rim. He pushes himself down on it.

‘Yes!’ he cries out in relief.

Santa groans behind him, a rumble that Stiles can feel through his entire body.

‘Now,’ Santa growls. ‘Tell me what you do with your daddy.’

‘You mean when I let him fuck me?’

‘Yes.’

Stiles grips the arm rests of the chair, using them as leverage he starts moving up and down. He finds a rhythm, not too fast, not too slow, one that’ll still allow him some brain function and let him speak.

‘We’re both naked,’ he starts. His words come out breathy, barely audible over the squelching of the lube. ‘He uses his fingers and lube to open up my hole. I love his thick strong fingers. They always make me feel so good. He knows exactly how to make me feel good.’

There’s another, encouraging groan behind him. Hands grip his hips, guiding him, making his movements more precise.

‘Sometimes he uses his mouth. That feels even better. He’ll bite, and lick, and suck, and it makes me shake with pleasure. When my ass is ready for his cock, he pushes it in.’ Stiles groans and throws his head back. ‘It’s so thick and perfect. My daddy can make me come without touching me. I like it when he fucks me slowly. It makes me feel special and loved.’

‘You are,’ Santa groans. ‘You are so special.’ He shifts forward in the chair a little, plants his feet firmly on the ground, and starts thrusting up, meeting Stiles’ movements.

Stiles gasps. His cock and balls are aching, and he wants to touch himself, but he can’t. If he lets go of even one armrest he’ll lose his rhythm, and that somehow seems even worse than not getting any relief. ‘But I like it more when he fucks me hard,’ he continues. ‘When he throws me down on the bed, or the couch, or bends me over the table. When he takes what he wants and knows that I can give it. I’m the only one. It makes me feel invulnerable. Untouchable by anyone but him.’

‘Oh, my son. Fuck.’

Stiles speeds up his movements. The hands at his hips are gripping him with a bruising tightness. His skin his so hot he feels like he could burst into flames at any moment. Pleasure shoots through his body, starting from where his ass is getting pounded and the teasing of the fabric against his hard and leaking cock, and gathers low in his belly. He aches. He’s close. So fucking close. He looks down and watches his cock bounce inside the train-patterned onesie. The stain of pre-come has become a wet smear, making the fabric see through. The pink tip of his cock feels like an abomination, not something that should be seen next to those happy and innocent little trains. He groans, closes his eyes to gather his thoughts.

‘And then he comes inside me. His come warm inside me. I like the way it runs down my crack and thighs. We never use condoms. I want to feel him inside me. His warm thick cock in my tight hot hole. I–‘ His voice cracks when Santa nails him in the prostate, and then keeps hitting it with every thrust. Stiles’ mind melts and he loses the ability do anything but plead for more.

The hands at his hips hold him still as Santa fucks into him, groaning and shouting with every thrust.

‘You’re such a naughty little boy. Ready to get fucked. So needy for my come. You’re so hungry for it, aren’t you? Such a filthy, naughty little boy.’

‘Please,’ Stiles whines. ‘Please, yes. Fuck me harder. Fuck! Please!’ He’s so close. He’s teetering right on the edge.

‘I will, little boy. I will.’

‘Fuck me!’

‘Fuck!’

‘Please!’

‘You fucking–‘

And then Santa stills inside of him with a wordless shout.

Stiles is trembling, feels like he’s ready to explode. He’s pulled back into Santa’s lap, cock still inside of him, still throbbing. He fidgets. He needs to come. He moves to touch himself, but his hands are pushed out of the way as Santa reaches around him and rips open the buttons of the onesie. Hand slide over his heated skin. Stiles moans and squirms, pushing the softening cock still deeper inside of him.

‘Relax,’ Santa tells him, his breath a teasing caress on Stiles’ cheek. ‘I’ll take care of you. You’ve been naughty, but you’ve also been a very good boy to your daddy and Santa.’

‘Am I off the naughty list?’

‘Yes, you are.’

‘Can I asks for a present?’

Fingers tweak his nipples and Stiles leans back, moaning, letting his head fall onto Santa’s shoulder.

‘You can ask for anything you want.’ Santa’s voice right by his ear, gruff and warm.

‘I want–‘ Stiles’ breath hitches. One hand moves further down into the onesie, over his stomach and grasps his cock firmly, while the other keeps playing with his nipples. ‘I want my daddy to fuck me every night,’ he says.

‘Every night?’ Santa chuckles. ‘That’s a lot.’

‘Well, I’m horny a lot and I love his cock a lot.’

Santa laughs at that. His softening cock moves inside of Stiles, shooting lightning bolts of pleasure across his skin.

‘Well, I’ll see what I can do.’

‘Tighter,’ Stiles begs, thrusting into the hand around his cock. ‘Faster. Please.’

It takes barely three strokes before Stiles comes with a shout. His hands clench at the armrests so hard they hurt. His vision whites out. He is nothing pleasure, nothing but his cock and his ass. The pleasure ebbs away, and he falls back against his dad. He slowly blinks open his eyes. The fuzziness fades from his vision and the hand that was around his cock is in front of him, covered in his come. He opens his mouth obediently and eagerly laps it all up.

‘This is perfect,’ he says when he’s finished. And it really is. He feels happy and lazy from the sex, his dad’s cock is in his ass and his dad’s hands are lazily roaming all over his body. There’s just one thing missing. ‘Now can you take off that stupid beard so I can kiss you?’

His dad laughs. ‘Of course.’

Stiles tilts his head. The fake beard is gone, revealing his dad’s beautiful face. He reaches up to pulls it down. The kiss is slow and scorching. Stiles sits up a little more for better access, and he smiles when he feels his dad’s cock hardening again. His own isn’t very far behind.

‘Tell me you have the rest of the day off.’ Stiles rotates his hips.

‘I do.’ His dad’s hands leave his body. Stiles wants to complain, but then he hears the _snick_ of the cap on the lube. ‘How about I recline this chair all the way back and you can ride me properly?’

Stiles nods eagerly. ‘Should I keep this on?’ He plucks at the onesie.

‘No, my boy. I prefer you naked. I want to see all of you.’

After getting rid of the onesie, Stiles stands before his dad naked, his cock fully hard again. Lube and come tracks down the inside of his thighs. He smirks when he sees the way his dad’s eyes eagerly take in him in. He fondles himself, almost casually, sighing happily.

‘Get back on my dick,’ his dad growls.

Stiles laughs and steps forward. His eye catches something on the floor. He bends over and picks up the Santa hat that fell off his dad’s head at some point. He puts it on his own head.

‘How about this?’ He grins and climbs into his dad’s lap. He takes the bottle of lube and applies some more to his hole and his dad’s cock.

‘Never should’ve taken you off that naughty list,’ his dad groans.

Stiles sinks down on him with a happy hum, then pouts. ‘Are you telling me I’m not a good boy?’ He sets a brutal pace from the start. He crashes his lips against his dad’s, devouring him, begging to be devoured. He moans and bites at his dad’s lips. ‘Are you telling me I don’t deserve to be fucked every night?’

‘That you do,’ his dad agrees, punctuating each word with a thrust. ‘But not because you’re a good boy.’

‘Then why?’ Stiles rips open the front of the Santa suit. He rakes his nails down his dad’s chest, leaving red marks.

‘Fuck!’ His dad squeezes his eyes closed and his hips lose there rhythm for a second. ‘It’s because you’re fucking sinful.’


End file.
